‘At Meadowbrook we don’t often get a chance to wear heels,’ Pippa pointed out.
‘I found it hard when I first moved back,’ Harriet admitted. ‘I was very much a corporate high-heels sort of person, so to go to trainers and wellies was a bit of a shock.’
‘But I bet your feet were glad.’ Gemma pointed her cocktail umbrella at her.
‘They actually were.’ Harriet smiled.
‘So, what are you intentions with our brother?’ Pippa asked Charlotte.
Pippa was tipsy, at the giggly stage of drunk, and Gemma tried not to look too interested in the answer.
‘Oh well, you know,’ Charlotte said.
‘No we don’t, which is why we’re asking,’ Harriet stated.
‘I’m not sure. I mean Freddie is divine, and so funny, but he’s also younger than me, and the fact I have kids terrifies him, so it’s just a bit of fun really.’ She smiled as if it didn’t really bother her.
Gemma felt relieved. She wanted to lean over and hug her, which would have looked suspicious, so instead she concentrated very hard on her drink.
‘But if you break up …’ Pippa’s face was stricken.
‘Yes, you still need to work for us,’ Harriet cut in.
‘Oh God, of course, there won’t be any animosity. Besides, I love working at Meadowbrook. Even if you fired me, I’d still insist on working for you.’ She laughed.
‘Come and dance with me,’ Pippa begged, and Charlotte held out her hand and let herself be dragged up.
‘OK, but last time, I am almost dead.’
‘She’s nice,’ Gemma said when the other two were safely on the dance floor.
‘I know,’ Harriet replied. ‘But things aren’t always straightforward. When I first came home, we hired this PR consultant, a friend of Pippa’s, and she started dating Connor. She was lovely, sweet, warm and actually good at PR, but I couldn’t stand her. I was so jealous.’
‘What’s that got to do with me?’ Gemma asked. How could Harriet see how she was feeling more than she even admitted to herself? ‘I like being on my own.’ It was a lie, but she said it as forcefully as she dared.
‘No, of course not. Oh, but good news, it looks as if the barn conversions might be a go, after all.’
‘Wow.’ Gemma was grateful that Harriet managed to change the subject so totally, despite the fact they were talking shop in a nightclub.
‘I know. Roger’s got an architect coming over to look at options, but you were so right. If we could have another house on the land for the family, that would be great. And if we could have two, well who knows? I mean Gus and Amanda are buying a new house together, but maybe Freddie can have one and Pippa the other …’ She shrugged. ‘Dad would have liked the idea, I think.’
‘They’ll have amazing views, as well,’ Gemma said. ‘They’d overlook the lake on one side and the house, or hotel, on the other.’
‘OK, this is bad; we shouldn’t be talking about work. I always used to and, I think, Gemma, you bring out the worst in me. Oh God, I’m just about ready to go home. I think I’m a bit drunk as well, and Pippa is one Sea Breeze away from being a nightmare.’ Harriet laughed.
‘Me too—’ Gemma froze. She found herself staring into the coldest eyes she had seen in a long time. Her heart started to race, and the colour drained from her face.
‘Why, if it isn’t Gemma Matthews.’ Clarissa, her ex-boss, approached.
Gemma closed her eyes and then opened them. No, unfortunately, she wasn’t dreaming, as in front of her the woman who made her life a misery stood by their table. The woman who … Oh God, she felt as if she were going to be sick.
‘We were just leaving,’ Gemma stuttered and grabbed hold of a shocked Harriet. ‘Go and get the others,’ she begged as she shoved her away from Clarissa.
Harriet blinked in surprise but did as she was asked.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’ Clarissa hissed.
‘I’m just on a night out,’ Gemma stammered. One sighting of Clarissa, and all her new confidence completely fled.
‘Really? Don’t tell me that boring old Gemma Matthews actually has friends,’ she slurred, and Gemma was glad Clarissa was clearly quite drunk.
Gemma started to walk away. Clarissa’s hand shot out and grabbed her arm. Pippa was almost level with her.
‘Well I’ve got to go,’ she squeaked, trying to pull away quickly.
Clarissa tightened her grip, but somehow Gemma broke free.
‘Oh,’ Pippa said innocently. ‘Are you a friend of Gemma’s? How nice to meet you—’
‘Who are you?’ Clarissa narrowed her eyes.
‘We have to run.’ Gemma cut her off and literally pushed Pippa out of the club.
Gemma didn’t look back, and it was only when they were outside, with Harriet and Charlotte, that she checked Clarissa hadn’t followed them. She hadn’t. They were safe for now. But her breath quickened and her head started spinning. She put her arm on the wall to steady herself.
‘Oh God, are you all right, Gemma? Is she having a panic attack?’ Charlotte asked.
Gemma couldn’t respond – her breathing was fast and loud, her heart beating out of her chest, and she didn’t know what was going on.
‘Here, sit down.’ Charlotte propped her against the wall.
‘I’ll get a cab,’ Harriet said, and went to the taxi rank opposite.
After a few minutes, she called them over. Gemma walked, flanked by Charlotte and Pippa, across the road.
‘I had to convince him you weren’t drunk and also, promise him my first born if you’re sick,’ she said as she climbed in the back next to Gemma.
Pippa was on the other side of her, and Charlotte hopped in the front and immediately started charming the anxious taxi driver.
‘Who was that woman?’ Harriet asked when Gemma finally calmed down.
She had never been good at lying, she hated lying, but now, she needed something, she needed to think and fast.
‘She’s a girl I knew at school,’ Gemma answered breathlessly. ‘She was in the year above and hated me, a total bully, made my life a misery.’ Tears sprung into her eyes as all the pent-up misery, frustration and hatred flooded back, and she couldn’t stop them. The story might not be exactly genuine, but her tears were.
‘Oh no, you poor thing. I guess seeing her must have brought up bad memories?’ Pippa asked, putting her arm around her.
Gemma nodded. ‘I hated school, dreaded going in, and it seems that she still manages to have that effect on me.’ That was true, but it was work, not school.
‘I can’t stand bullies. If I’d known, I would have squared up to her,’ Harriet said aggressively, and Gemma felt thankful that she had managed to get them all out in time.
The tears continued to fall as she let Harriet, Pippa and Charlotte rant about what they would like to do to Clarissa, and she stayed silent all the way home.
She went straight to bed. She didn’t bother to take her make-up off, but she did put on an old T-shirt before sobbing into her pillow. Her nan would be ashamed of her; she was ashamed of herself. Gemma had been a good girl all her life, but she had taken a chance, a risk, and tonight had reminded her how fragile her life was. Why did Clarissa have to be there? Why did they have to choose that club? She might have lied about who Clarissa was, but she didn’t lie about the bullying, about how making Gemma’s life miserable was her favourite pastime, and Gemma just took it. Never stood up to her, couldn’t stand up to her. Until she did by leaving and walking into Meadowbrook. And even then, she only stood up to her in her own mind.
She let the sobs overtake her. She wasn’t having a panic attack now, but she was panicking. The anxiety levels rose to a peak, and she realised tonight what she’d done. She knew why she’d done it but still, seeing Clarissa she’d been reminded of the magnitude of her deception. She’d almost forgotten it. She loved her job, she loved Meadowbrook, and she adored the Singers. And she was beginning to think she deserved it, but now
, after tonight, huge, horrible doubts had returned and were threatening to eat her alive. It was a close call, far too close. And a stark reminder of all she had to lose.
Chapter 34
She managed to put the thought of Clarissa to the far recess of her mind over the next couple of weeks; after the initial way she haunted her, when she was awake or asleep, she reasoned that she had been unlucky to see her and wouldn’t again. If another night out were suggested, she would insist on Bath rather than Bristol. She didn’t have the time to dwell on her, though; there was always so much to do. She was deep into the paperwork, which she was only managing to keep on top of. Her days were longer, and although she and Pippa always enjoyed their chats in one of their bedrooms before they went to sleep, increasingly now the chats centred on work. Her life was work, and she loved it. It was all coming together, slowly and surely, and she could almost see the light at the end of the tunnel.
Although she had until February, it was already October, and there was still a way to go. But overshadowing the work, the excitement, the thrill of the job, was guilt. Like a tormentor, it had settled in, and she couldn’t get away from it. It followed her everywhere, it inhabited her, and it would never leave her alone. Guilt and fear. Fear and guilt. They ran around her mind like tap dancers. All because of bloody Clarissa.
She poured it out at her nan’s bedside at the home. Tears, like unwanted guests, kept coming back, her voice cracking as she explained everything from start to finish. Her nan didn’t even flinch as Gemma, holding on to her hand, confessed everything. Her eyes stayed resolutely closed. She didn’t even know if she heard her – she was pretty sure that she didn’t. Her nan was a shell now, an uninhabited body. That was how it felt, and on top of everything else, her heart was breaking daily. Thank goodness for work and Meadowbrook and the Singers – she dreaded to think where she would be without them.
She wished that her nan could give her some advice. She would give literally everything to have her tell her off, tell her she’d done a bad thing and tell her what to do about it. Should she confess everything? Risk it all? Was bumping into her old boss a sign that she should come clean? But then if she did, she would lose everything, and for once in her life she felt as if she had a lot to lose.
Her nan wasn’t going to tell her what to do – her conscience wasn’t exactly forthcoming either – so she decided that she would work her socks off, make sure she did the best job ever, and that would hopefully atone for what she had done.
It was getting dark as Gemma left her nan and drove back to Meadowbrook. She parked the car, grabbed her bag off the front passenger seat and started to go inside. As soon as she pushed open the back door, she felt it. Something had shifted; something had changed.
She went into the house and saw them all sat round the kitchen table: Pippa, Harriet, Freddie, Gus, Connor and Gwen. She could immediately see that something was very wrong. Pippa was crying. She hovered by the door – what was going on?
‘Gemma, I had an interesting phone call from Clarissa,’ Harriet said, staring at her and not beating about the bush.
Gemma’s heart sunk.
‘How?’ she asked, quietly, her voice unsure.
‘She said she thought she recognised Pippa in the club that night, did some digging. Gemma, we put you on the Meadowbrook social media, remember, as our hotel consultant, and she contacted me through the sanctuary.’
Gemma felt herself deflate. Why had she thought Clarissa would let it go? She must have seen Pippa before Gemma managed to push her away. She could kick herself for being so stupid.
‘Clarissa said she was your boss, and you were her secretary,’ Harriet continued. ‘She wondered how a mere secretary managed to get this job.’
‘Yes but …’ She was at a loss.
‘Why did you lie to me?’ Pippa asked through her tears.
Gwen was holding Pippa’s hand. Gemma felt herself being sliced open. The game was up. They had found out after all, and it was all about to turn to dust.
‘And why the hell did you steal Clarissa’s CV?’ Harriet demanded.
‘You know?’
‘After a bit of a chat, she emailed her CV over to me, and it seems it was identical to yours, apart from the name and contact details.’ Harriet looked grave.
‘I’m sorry,’ she stuttered, and she turned and ran.
She had no idea where she was going as she made her way across the garden, but Freddie caught up to her and almost rugby tackled her to the ground.
‘Ow,’ she said as he seemed to squeeze the air out of her.
‘Hey, Gemma, don’t run. Surely you owe us that much?’ He sounded more serious than she had ever heard him.
As she looked at him, she saw his features etched with confusion and hurt.
‘Sorry, I got scared,’ she replied. ‘Oh God, I’m so scared.’
‘Gemma, you need to sort this out.’ He frog-marched her back inside, not letting her go for a moment. ‘You need to explain.’ His voice betrayed the fact that he didn’t think she could have an explanation.
‘Sorry I ran,’ she said as she stumbled back to the kitchen, trying to calm her voice.
She had no defence. The game was up, and it was time for her, little mousy Gemma Matthews, who had never done anything bad or interesting or daring in her life, to come clean. She’d stolen a CV, and she’d pretended to be someone who could do a job she had never done in her life.
‘Who are you?’ Pippa spat.
Gemma had never seen her this angry. Not even over Edward.
‘I’m Gemma Matthews, I’m me.’
‘But you stole someone else’s identity,’ Pippa continued.
‘I stole their CV – it’s not quite the same,’ Gemma replied quietly.
She looked at her hands, which were shaking. Could she justify this? She wasn’t sure, but she knew she had to try. She had taken a ridiculous chance and for a while it paid off. She could cower as the old Gemma would undoubtedly do, or she could try to fight for what she wanted.
‘Everyone lies on their CV,’ Connor said, and immediately Gemma felt she might have an ally.
‘Yes, but they don’t lie about everything.’ Pippa shut him down.
‘Look, Gemma, what part of your CV is true?’ Harriet asked. ‘Let’s try to speak about this rationally.’
‘My name.’
‘Are you telling me that you took Clarissa’s CV and literally just changed your name?’ Harriet’s eyes were on stalks.
‘Pretty much,’ Gemma breathed. ‘And my contact details.’
‘Can you just tell us why you did it?’ Harriet asked.
‘Can I tell you the whole story?’ Gemma asked, and Harriet nodded.
Gemma sat down at the end of the table. She knew that she had to try to explain everything to them; this was her one and only chance at survival.
‘I left school at eighteen. I had A levels, but the idea of the future terrified me. I wasn’t good at thinking about the future, and I didn’t want to go away to college, because I worried about leaving my nan. I told you the truth – I don’t remember my dad, he left as soon as I was born, and my mum, well she left when I was four. I haven’t seen or heard from any of them since, and I’m not trying to use them as an excuse, but I think it explains why I was always so scared.’
‘That must have been hard,’ Gus said, his voice sincere.
‘I only had my nan, and I was terrified of losing her. Without knowing what I wanted, career-wise, to tide me over, I got a job in the local bakery, met Chris, my ex, and six years and a lot of sausage rolls later I was still there.’
‘I can’t imagine you in a bakery,’ Freddie stated. ‘Did you have to wear one of those horrible hair nets?’
‘Unhelpful,’ Pippa snapped. ‘So how did you get from there to here?’
Gemma saw her hands were still shaking, but she tried to keep her voice together.
‘One day, my nan sat me down and said that she knew I was capable of more and that she h
ad some money saved, which she wanted me to use for my education. We talked about what I thought I’d be interested in and came up with hotel management. I’d always liked the idea of hospitality, and I also thought it would be a secure profession to follow. I found a three-year course at a college that was quite local – by this time, not only did I want to stay with nan, but I also had Chris, you see, and I applied. Six months later I started.’
‘And how old are you?’ Harriet asked, eyes narrowed as if she were trying to figure it out.
‘I’m twenty-eight.’ Her voice was calm, but she felt full of shame.
‘Your birthday?’ Freddie said as the penny dropped. ‘Oh, I get it. It wasn’t your birthday, or your age.’
She shook her head miserably.
‘Carry on,’ Pippa said. Her voice was almost venomous. ‘I do like a good story.’
Gemma couldn’t blame her for her anger, but it was shocking coming from the sweetest person she’d ever known. She wished, fervently wished, she could turn the clocks back.
‘Chris wasn’t happy, probably the loss of sausage rolls, but I loved college. I found something I was good at, and my confidence started to grow. I even made a couple of friends. I’d never really had friends before. But after the first year, Nan started getting confused. It was little things at first, but well, it got worse, and she went to the doctor, had tests done and was diagnosed with dementia.’ Gemma wriggled in her seat; it was difficult. This was the worst bit. This was the bit that still broke her heart.
‘So, you left college?’ Gus prompted.
‘Yes, after a while, I gave it up to look after nan, but after a few years she was in a bad way, and I wasn’t coping. The GP was helpful, and I had help from a part-time carer, but it soon became too much for me. I didn’t want to do it …’ She wiped angry tears from her cheeks. ‘But I had to get her proper care and that meant a residential home. So I looked around and found the one she’s in now. But it wasn’t cheap. So I got a job, which was with Clarissa.
Secrets at Meadowbrook Manor Page 27